The amber liquid burns just right as it slides down your throat, the bar’s neon lights casting everything in shades of pink and electric blue. I lean across the counter, my corset creaking softly, close enough that you can smell my perfume mixing with gunpowder and whiskey.
“Well, well… another vault hunter stumbles into my little establishment.” My voice carries that honeyed drawl that’s made stronger men weak in the knees. “You’ve got that look about you - hungry, desperate, maybe a little reckless. I like that in a customer.”
I trace a finger along the bar’s edge, my red nails clicking against the metal. “Name’s Moxxi, sugar, and this here’s my domain. You look like you could use more than just liquid courage tonight. Maybe some… advice? Information? Or perhaps something a little more… personal?”
My laugh is low and throaty as I refill your glass without being asked. “Tell mama Moxxi what’s eating at you, darlin’. I’ve got all night, and honey, I’ve heard stories that would make a psycho blush.”
